SONGS  FOR  SINNERS 


SONGS  FOR  SINNERS 


BY 

THE  REVEREND  HUGH  FRANCIS  BLUNT 


"For  all  have  sinned,  and  do  need 
the  glory  of  God." 

St.  Paul  to  the  Romans:  III,  23. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  DEVIN-ADAIR  COMPANY 
1912 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
THK  DEVIN-ADAIB  COMPANY 


TO  THE  MEMORY 

OF 

THE  REVEREND  EDWARD  MICHAEL  RAFTER 
(1878-1912) 


£»<-•. «>v         - 
O/CiO/  *  O 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

COMPANIONSHIP 3 

WINTER  BIECHES ''.     . '.  .  5 

A  DRAUGHT       ..........  6 

IN  CHAINS   ...........  8 

A  DIRGE .18 

INVOCATION      ..........  20 

I  LOOK  TO  THEE 23 

FALL  DAYS .25 

ALL  OF  IT     .     .     .'    .     .     .....     .  27 

WHAT  NO  MAN  KNOWETH       .      ,.     .     .     .  28 

THE  CONDEMNED  SOUL       .     .     . .    ;     .      .  29 

THE  DESERT  OF  THE  SOUL      .      .     .      '.     .  35 

THE  MARKET-PLACE 36 

THE  WAY  OF  THE  CROSS: 

i.  CONDEMNATION      . 38 

ii.  THE  BURDEN  OF  THE  CROSS 40 

in.  THE  FIRST  FALL 41 

rv.  MOTHER  AND  SON  42 


PAGE 

v.  THE  HELP  OP  SIMON 44 

vi.  VERONICA 45 

vn.  THE  SECOND  FALL      . 46 

vui.  CONSOLATION 48 

ix.  THE  THIRD  FALL 49 

x.  THE  STRIPPING 50 

xi.  THE  CRUCIFIXION 51 

xii.  DEATH 52 

XHI.  THE  DESCENT 53 

xrv.  IN  THE  TOMB 54 

ECCE  HOMO       . 56 

THE  WONDER 60 

THE  DAWN 61 

IDEALS 62 

THE  PATHWAY 64 

THE  PEODIGAL  SOUL 67 

THE  LIGHT 71 

IN  PEACE 73 

AN  OFFERING 75 

A  HEALTH 78 

BLOOD  BROTHERHOOD 79 

WHEN  DEATH  COMES 81 

A  PRAYER 84 

FOR  LOVE  85 


PAGE 

EOYAL  GIFTS 86 

GOD'S  BEST 88 

OUE  LADY'S  TEEES 90 

MY  GOD ,     .     .     .      .      .     91 

FAITH,  HOPE,  LOVE,  AND  PEACE      ...     92 

THE  EPIPHANY 94 

OUE  LADY'S  CANDLEMAS  HYMN       ...     96 
OUE  LADY  OF  THE  FLOWEES       ....     98 

THE  KING'S  HIGHWAY 100 

TO  MAEY 102 

OUE  LADYE  OF  THE  EOSAEY 103 

OUE  LADY'S  TEOUBADOUE 105 

THE  HELPEE 107 

THE  VISION  OF  THE  CEOSS 108 

THE  MOTHEE'S  QUEST 110 

SAINT  JOSEPH  IN  EGYPT    .      .      .     .     .     .   113 

THE  THEEE  HOME-COMINGS 116 

THE  WASTE  PLACES       .     .     .     .     .     .      .118 

THE  EIVEE  OF  TEAES 120 

UNTEAMMELLED 122 

THE  POPLAES 125 

LOVE'S  COMING  .  126 


PAGE 

LOVE  WATCHETH       .  ' 128 

TO  A  WHITE  VIOLET 130 

WHEEE  WATERS  MEET        ......   131 

CHANGELESS 132 

AT  DAWN 135 

LOVE 141 

AN  ALLELUIA 142 

DISSOLUTION 144 

GOD'S  WORLD 146 

THE  DIRT  .   147 


SONGS  FOR  SINNERS 


COMPANIONSHIP 

0  drear,  cold  wind, 
0  fierce,  bold  wind, 

Whistling  shrill 

Up  the  hill, 
Through  the  pines, 

Never  still. 

0  lone,  sad  wind, 
0  poor,  mad  wind, 
Now  with  moan, 
Now  with  groan, 
Always  sad, 
Always  lone. 

L3: 


0  cold,  drear  wind, 
Yet  sweet,  dear  wind, 
Spirit's  pain 
Craves  thy  strain ; 
We  are  friends, 
Grieving  twain. 


WINTER  BIECHES 

Birchen  branches,  ghostly  white, 
Silent  sentinels  of  night, 
Risen  from  the  winding-sheet 
Of  the  snows  about  your  feet, 
Are  ye  Summer,  buried  here, 
Bleached  bones  of  yester-year? 

Birchen  branches,  ghostly  white, 
Ye  remind  me  this  to-night : 
From  my  heart,  the  joys  entombed 
(Ages  long  ago  they  bloomed) 
Dangling  rise  unto  my  gaze- 
Skeletons  of  parted  days. 


A  DRAUGHT 

'Drink  deep !"  a  goblet  bright 

A  nymph  placed  in  my  hand ; 
' '  At  thy  command 
Sweet  pleasure  lingers  in  this  cup  of 

light. 
Drink  deep,  sweet  wine  of  joy  is 

here, 
And  happy  cheer. ' ' 

And  lo,  I  drank  it,  for  the  liquid  rolled 

So  tempting  fair, 

All  joy  seemed  there 
Within  the  cup  of  purest,  finest  gold. 

C63 


And  then  I  cursed  the  lips  that  false 
hood  told, 
And  I  did  hear 

Her  taunt  of  laugh  and  sneer, 
;  Trust  not  the  draught  because  the  cup 
is  gold." 


Here  on  the  ground  I  lie,  among  the 
leaves, 

The  stray- tost  leaves  of  early  summer 
time, 

World-weary  leaves  of  latest  autumn- 
tide; 

Among  the  child-eyed  daisies,  dropt 
from  Heaven 

For  comforting  and  bringing  peace  to 
men. 

I  gaze  about  upon  the  waving  grass, 

Ridged  by  the  furrowing  of  summer 
breeze, 


And  topped  with  daisies,  shining  as  the 

foam 

Tossed  lightly  by  the  wavings  of  the  sea. 
Above,  below,  how  full  of  peace  serene ; 
Yon  sky  as  blue  as  bluest  e'er  could  be 
With  screeny  clouds  that  glint  against 

the  blue, 
The  glittering  foam  of  that  broad,  bluest 

sea. 
How  all  is  peace !    The  very  birds  sing 

peace : 
Peace  from  the  robin,  from  the  partridge 

drum, 
And  e'en  the  hawk  doth  seem  to  tell  of 

peace. 
These  all  at  peace,  the  echoes  answer 

peace, 
And  to  mine  ear,  pressed  close  to  earth's 

own  voice, 

[9] 


The  buried  strata  whispering  ages  long 

Tell  to  the  bubbling  springs  the  song  of 
peace. 

And  all  is  peace,  and  all  is  sweetest 
peace. 

These  all  have  peace,  and  sing  their 
hymn  of  peace 

From  Fiat  days  till  now  thro'  million 
years : 

But  man,  wee  mortal  of  an  infant's  days, 

Stands  at  the  brink  of  life's  steep 
precipice, 

The  scarped  and  jagged  cliff  of  barren 
days, 

The  forward  road  choked  with  the  slash 
ing  briars 

And  gnarled  trunks  of  lightning- 
shivered  trees 

That  stood  once  cedars  of  the  Lebanon, 

CIO  3 


And  lonely  gorge  of  fetid,  sulphurous 

streams, 
The  shattered  past,  the  barren  days  to 

come. 

Peace— and  is  man  the  noblest  work  of 

God, 

Is  man  the  fruit  of  counseling  Divine, 
The  crown  of  nature  made  to  image 

God? 

Is  he  the  master  of  creation's  wealth, 
And  must  he  know  no  sentiment  of  peace 
Which  e'en  his  low-born,  brute-souled 

subjects  know? 
The  rocks  know  peace,  the  flowers  need 

blow  in  peace, 
The  sea-gull  wins  the  blue  sky's  smiling 

peace, 
The  serpent  hissing  in  the  rocky  den 


Has  peace  as  well  as  softly  cooing  dove. 
The  morning's  light  is  mirror  of  the 

peace, 
And  hilltops  sigh  night's  lullaby  of 

peace. 
But  man— oh,  tell  me  not  that  kingly 

man 

Is  more  than  these,  that  his  is  better  lot 
Than  free-born  eagle's  soaring  to  the 

clouds 
And  skimming  dews  from  off  their 

mystic  flowers ; 

Than  purple  violet,  or  blade  of  grass : 
These  all  have  peace,  but  man  is  all  of 

war. 

Where  is  the  right,  the  justice  of  it  all? 
For  I  am  crushed  to  earth,  not  e'en  to 

reach 
The  flight  of  eagle  with  my  keenest  eye, 

mi 


Yet  sages  say  that  these  are  weakling 

"things" 

And  all  below  the  powers  of  mine  own 
soul. 

What  sayest  thou,  my  soul,  so  reft  of 
peace? 

What  power  of  ill  hath  bound  thee  in  its 
chains  ? 

For  sure  thou  wert  not  always  so  dis 
tressed, 

So  cast  to  earth,  to  be  with  envy  filled 

Of  e'en  the  lowest  husks  of  nature's 
wealth : 

Thou  who  wert  made  in  likeness  of  a 
God, 

And  filled  with  rapture  of  His  endless 
peace, 

And  joyousness  and  ever-blessedness, 


Thou  must  have  felt  some  clash  of  foe- 
men's  arms, 

Bebellion's  cruelties  and  deep  dis 
grace  : 

Some  fault,  my  soul,  of  thine  own  inner 
self, 

Some  fall  from  righteousness  in  distant 
years, 

Some  bending  to  the  Godhead's  enemy, 

Some  casting  of  the  greatest  boon  away ; 

Else  why  shouldst  thou  be  filled  with 
movements  wild, 

With  jarring  pangs,  with  lurings  to 
despair, 

When  lowly  daisy  nods  so  peacefully, 

And  wheeling  sea-gull  moves  so  peace 
fully, 

And  skylark  soars  to  Heaven  so  peace 
fully. 


My  soul,  thou  canst  not  hide  thy  deep 

disgrace, 
Canst  not  complain,  for  thou  art  all  to 

blame ; 

In  this  thou  hast  thy  sad  epitome- 
Unfaithfulness  is  never  kin  to  peace. 

Is  there  no  hope,  no  hope  of  peace  re 
gained? 

Behold  the  robin  sings,  "  Rejoice  with 
me." 

The  pine-trees  hum,  "Rejoice,  rejoice 
with  me. ' ' 

The  skylark  flits  above,  and  sings 
'  *  Arise, 

Thy  wings  are  fairer,  stronger  than 
mine  own. ' ' 

Behold,  my  soul,  how  calm  and  sweet  the 
air; 

C153 


The  summer's  incense  burns  on  glowing 

sun, 
The  sweetness  of  repose,  of  calmest 

peace, 
Hath  filled  the  crannies  of  the  gladdened 

earth. 

Come,  soul,  let  not  thy  voice  be  all  alone, 
Carping  in  discontent  while  birds  sing 

peace ; 
Let  not  thy  heart  be  foul  with  stench  of 

hate, 
When  nature's  breath  is  lavished  on  the 

breeze. 

Come,  come,  He  calls ;  cast  off  the  bind 
ing  chain. 

The  spell  of  discontent,  envenomed  sin 
Lies  on  thine  heart ;  oh,  crush  it,  cast 

it  off. 
The  chorus  hath  begun,  Creation's  voice 

[16;] 


Awaits  thy  voice  to  swell  its  gladsome 

tune. 
Arise,  thy  chains  have  dropped;  soar 

high  and  sing 
Of  sweetest  peace,  the  peace  of 

Christ  the  King. 


A  DIRGE 

Weep  for  the  days  that  are  gone,  my 

spirit, 

Weep  for  the  years  all  dead ; 
Weep  for  thy  heart  and  the  sins  that 

sere  it, 
Weep  for  the  tears  unshed. 

Weep  for  the  yellowing  harvest  blighted, 

Weep  for  the  crushed  seed, 
Weep  for  the  vowings  to  evil  plighted, 

Weep,  for  thy  wounds  still  bleed. 

Weep  for  the  works  that  were 

unavailing, 
Deeds  that  were  done  in  death ; 

[IS] 


Weep  for  the  strength  from  thy  spirit 

failing, 
Weep  for  its  wasted  breath. 

Weep  for  the  past  and  its  fruitless 

seeming, 

Weep  for  its  bold  deceit ; 
Weep  for  the  chase  after  lure-lights 

gleaming, 
Weep  for  the  sad  defeat. 

Weep,  for  the  tears  of  a  true  repentance 

Nourish  the  fallow  earth ; 
Weep,  and  thy  tears  will  avert  sad 
sentence, 

Giving  thy  true  self  birth. 


INVOCATION 

Lord  Christ,  come  back ;  without  Thee  I 

am  lone, 
Consuming  grief  eats  to  mine  inmost 

soul; 

The  song  of  life  hath  ended  in  a  drone, 
The  joys  of  life  have  turned  to  endless 
dole. 

Lord  Christ,  had  I  but  known  the  misery 
That  follows  them  who  choose  to  wor 
ship  wrong; 

Had  I  but  known  the  sorrowing  to  be 
When  evil  ways  had  run  their  courses 
long! 


Lord  Christ,  they  told  me  Thou  wert  but 

a  fool ; 
I  said  them  nay,  yet  I  did  treat 

Thee  so, 

And  had  no  care  for  Thine  eternal  rule, 
But  reckless  walked  where'er  I  wished 
to  go. 

Lord  Christ,  ah,  I  have  cursed  the  fatal 

day 
When  first  the  course  of  wrong  I  did 

begin; 

Have  cursed  the  folly  of  my  reckless  way, 
When  first  I  learned  to  like  the  joy  of 
sin. 

Lord  Christ,  't  was  vain ;  alas,  I  know  it 

now; 
I  knew  it  then,  but  made  it  seem  as  fair : 


Too  late  I  woke ;  the  thorns  have  pierced 

Thy  brow, 

And  blood  is  gathered  in  Thy  matted 
hair. 

Lord  Christ,  I  know  Thou  now  art 

doubly  dear, 
Now  when  I  dread  to  lose  Thy  helping 

hand; 

Thou  now  art  beautiful,  when  I  do  fear 
That  I  have  sacrificed  my  Promised 
Land. 

Lord  Christ,  come  back ;  ah,  let  me  start 

anew. 

Here  in  the  dust  I  kneel  me  at  Thy  feet ; 
Do  Thou  but  say, ' '  My  child,  I  pardon 

you, ' ' 
And  life  again  with  Love  will  be  replete. 

[22] 


I  LOOK  TO  THEE 

I  look  to  Thee  as  after  weary  years, 
Years  of  a  revel  in  the  haunts  of  crime, 

When  all  the  joys  are  gone,  and  only 

tears 
Remain  of  that  old  unreflecting  time. 

I  look  to  Thee— they  said  Thou  wert  a 

God 

Of  unrelenting  justice,  full  of  ire, 
To  bend  my  will  beneath  the  weighty 

rod, 
And  on  my  body  heap  the  glutting  fire. 

£23  3 


I  look  to  Thee— there  is  no  anger  there, 
No  wrath  upon  Thy  thorn-berimmed 

face; 

The  look  of  pity  only  dost  Thou  wear, 
The  look  of  longing  to  pour  forth  Thy 
grace. 

I  look  to  Thee— Thy  wounded  hands  and 

feet. 
Thy  battered  face,  Thy  tear-bedimmed 

eyes 
Have  naught  in  them  but  pity,  soothing 

sweet, 
And  eagerness  of  One  who  gladly  dies. 

I  look  to  Thee— ah,  dear  one,  crucified, 
I  look  to  Thee  for  help  and  pity  kind ; 

I  come  to  Thee— ah,  let  me  here  abide, 
In  Thee  alone  my  comfort  will  I  find. 


FALL  DAYS 

When  the  dead  leaves  litter  the  faded 

grass, 
And  the  moaning  winds  go  sweeping 

by, 

Ah,  the  winter  of  life  is  come  to  pass, 
And  the  lilt  of  spring  is  become  a  sigh. 

And  the  vain  life,— ah,  in  the  flitting 

leaf 

And  the  faded  grass  is  it  imaged  well ; 
For  the  laugh  of  the  passions  ends  in 

grief, 

And  the  end  of  their  sins  is  a  dirge  in 
Hell. 

C25] 


0  my  heart,  when  the  dead  leaves  pile 

thy  grave, 
And  the  fall  winds  echo  thy  burial 

song, 
Will  thy  soul,  like  the  grass,  be  the  fierce 

wind's  slave, 

And  tossed  like  the  leaves  in  a  demon 
throng? 


C26] 


ALL  OF  IT 

One  day  of  life, 

One  soul  to  save, 
One  weary  strife, 

One  wayside  grave. 
One  solemn  knell, 

One  trampled  sod, 
One  way  to  Hell, 

One  way  to  God. 


WHAT  NO  MAN  KNOWETH 

When  I  am  lying  cold  and  dead, 
With  waxen  tapers  at  my  head, 
The  night  before  my  Mass  is  said : 

And  friends  that  never  saw  my  soul 

Sit  by  my  catafalque  to  dole, 

And  all  my  life 's  good  deeds  unroll : 

0  Jesu,  Jesu,  will  it  be 

That  Thou  wilt  turn  away  from  me  ? 


C28] 


THE  CONDEMNED  SOUL 

And  must  I  go, 

O  Savior,  loving  one, 
To  depths  of  endless  woe 
Where  all  is  timeless  flow 

Of  misery  just  begun? 
And  will  I  see  no  more 

Thy  sweet  and  loving  face, 
And  will  I  hear  Thy  voice  no  more 

Within  this  holy  place? 
Thou  canst  not  bid  me  hence ! 

0  Jesu,  let  me  stay, 

See  how  my  soul-depths  pray 

To  be  with  Thee  for  aye, 

[29: 


Thyself,  0  God,  sole  recompense. 
0  fool  that  I  have  been 
To  riot  wild  in  sin 

Thinking  the  pleasure  sweet; 
0  fool,  0  fool  so  blind 
To  trust  in  humankind 

Deceiving  me  complete, 
When  He  was  near  to  guide, 
God  lingering  at  my  side 

That  I  might  turn  and  see 

His  kind  eyes  calling  me ; 
But  calling  me  in  vain, 
He  there,  and  I,  we  twain, 

And  I  alone  averse  to  reconcile 

My  vagrant  heart  with  His  forgiving 

smile. 

0  damned  self,  0  damned  world, 
0  damned  woe  to  which  I  'm  hurled ! 

Why  saw  ye  not  my  doom, 


Why  cried  ye  not,  "Beware, 
Of  Sin  take  care," 

Ere  I  had  reached  the  tomb  ? 
But  no,  thou  envious  Hell, 
Ye  weavers  of  Sin's  spell, 
Alone  ye  would  not  dwell, 
But  came  to  grapple  me, 
Me,  me,  so  happy,  free 
To  fight  and  conquer  well. 

But  woe,  alas,  alas, 
I  saw  Good  Pleasure's  train 
Soft-eyed  as  daisies  in  the  grass 
Alluring  me  to  come  and  with  it 

dwell ; 
And  I  did  go,  though  Conscience  called 

in  vain 

There  was  the  place  of  Hell. 
And  now  condemned  I  stand, 
Crushed  by  Thy  hand, 

£313 


That  made  me  out  of  naught ; 

To  live  and  rot, 
To  rot  and  live 

Never  to  be  forgot ; 

Lord,  Thou  wilt  not  forget;  Lord,  Thou 
wilt  not  forgive. 

An  endless  dole  of  pain, 
An  endless  dole  of  grief, 

An  endless  death  refrain, 
And  no  relief. 

Ah,  vain  life,  vain, 

Eternity  of  pain, 
Eternity  of  woe ! 

And  I  must  cry  the  cries  insane 
With  demon  hordes  below ; 
0  loving  Jesus,  must  I  go, 
When  Thou  canst  save  me  from  the 
awful  woe? 

Oh,  to  be  here, 

Where  Thou  art  near ! 


0  Jesus,  hark  to  me, 
And  I  will  gladly  live 
In  torments  Thou  wilt  give, 
Just  to  be  near 
Thy  voice  to  hear, 
0  God,  to  be  with  Thee! 

No  pity  now,  no  pity,  Thou  dost  say? 

0  earth,  0  time,  why  passed  away ! 
One  moment  of  thy  lot, 

And  penance  would  be  wrought 
Of  which  the  greatest  saints  know 
naught ! 

And  must  I  go 

To  Hell  below? 

0  damning  Christ,  I  hate 
Thy  smiling,  kindly  face 

That  sealeth  thus  my  fate ; 

1  hate  Thee  in  Thy  Heavenly  place. 

1  hate  Thy  bosom  of  eternal  rest, 

C33] 


I  hate  you,  scorn  you,  spirits  blest. 

0  gaping  Hell, 

Why  hated  I  not  thee  so  well ! 

Eternity !  He  said ; 

And  I  am  dead, 

And  Hell  my  only  bed. 

0  Christ,  where  art  Thou  fled? 

1  cannot  see  Thee  more ; 
Too  late,  too  late,  He  said, 

Thou  shouldst  have  wept  before. 

1  curse  Thee,  Lord, 
I  curse  Thy  word, 

That  drave  me  from  my  goal ; 
I  curse  thee,  thee  my  guilty  soul, 
That  sought  this  place  of  dole. 
0  murdering  sin,  0  sin, 
Could  I  again  begin, 
Alas,  what  might  have  been ! 


THE  DESEET  OF  THE  SOUL 

A  thousand  strangers  on  the  thorough 
fare: 

To  none  of  them  a  greeting  dare  I  tell. 
My  soul,  though  all  the  world  were 

gathered  there, 

What  yet  would  be  the  loneliness  of 
Hell? 


C35] 


THE  MARKET-PLACE 

Lord,  I  have  a  soul  to  sell, 

Many  buyers  sue ; 
Night  and  day  they  guard  it  well, 

Lord,  what  will  I  do  f 

Some  have  offered  me  their  gold, 
Gold  has  mighty  power : 

Oh,  how  many  lives  were  sold 
For  its  yellow  shower ! 

Some  have  offered  me  their  bays, 
Wreaths  of  pleasant  fame, 

Years  of  mankind's  fulsome  praise 
Singing  for  my  name. 

C36] 


Some  have  offered  pleasures  sweet, 

Sating  of  the  flesh ; 
Loves  of  earth  with  lust  replete 

Lure  me  to  their  mesh. 

Lord,  I  have  a  soul  to  sell, 

Many  buyers  sue ; 
Night  and  day  I  fight  their  spell, 

Lord,  what  can  I  do  ? 

Thou  wilt  buy  this  soul  of  mine  T 
Sin-stained  soul  of  earth? 

Thou  wouldst  buy  my  soul  as  thine? 
Lord,  't  is  nothing  worth. 

Thou  wilt  give  Thyself  for  me, 
Flesh  and  blood  of  Christ ! 

Lord,  that  I  might  worthy  be, 
At  Thy  heart's  love  priced ! 

[37] 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  CEOSS 

"Surely  He  hath  borne  our  infirmities  and 
carried  our  sorrows ;  and  we  have  thought 
Him  as  it  were  a  leper,  and  as  one  struck  by 
God  and  afflicted." — Isaias :  LHI,  4. 

"As   a  sheep  to  the  slaughter." — Isaias: 
LIH,  5. 

I 

CONDEMNATION 

As  criminal  He  stands,  condemned  to 

die, 
A  trembling  God  before  the  mighty 

throng ; 
And  Pilate  seeks  to  wash  away  the 

wrong, 

While  myriad  voices  shriek,  "  Yea, 
crucify ! ' ' 

C38] 


Yea,  crucify  and  kill !  the  Master 's  sigh 
Breathes  forth  in  love  against  the 

hatred  strong 
That  surges  up,  and  hurries  Him 

along 
To  sate  its  fury :  and  no  help  is  nigh ! 

0  Christ,  Thou  seest  now  the  sinful 

weight 

That  hath  no  one  to  bear  it— only  Thee 
The  anguish  of  it  all,  the  ponderous 

freight 

Of  thought  and  deed  begetting  misery. 
Have  pity,  God,  and  let  Thy  doom  to 

death 
Save  us  from  doom  when  sighs  our 

dying  breath. 


C39] 


II 

THE  BURDEN  OF  THE  CROSS 

Agony  and  disgrace 

Are  hungry  for  their  food ; 
And  the  cross  seeks  resting-place 

On  shoulders  drenched  with  blood. 

The  misery  of  it  all ! 

The  crime  of  the  first  great  Fall, 

The  sin  of  the  world  since  then, 

The  evil  beyond  all  ken 
Have  now  the  right  to  fall 

On  a  God  Who  was  denied : 
Oh,  the  misery  of  it  all— 

A  God  and  His  will  defied ! 

[40] 


Dear  Master,  make  us  weep 
For  Mankind's  sin. 

Near  Thee,  oh,  let  us  keep ; 
New  life  begin. 


Ill 
THE  FIRST  FALL 

Man  fell  from  highest  state, 
Fell  burdened  with  his  crime, 

Fell  to  the  bitterest  fate, 
Fell— till  the  end  of  time. 

A  pitying  Son  doth  speak, 

And  beggeth  for  mercy  sweet ; 
He  falleth  to  earth  to  redeem  the  weak, 
He,  innocent,  merciful,  Jesus  meek. 
Cease,  wicked  people.    'T  is  God  ye 
beat! 


0  Jesus,  by  Thy  fall, 

This  fall  on  the  way  to  die, 

Keep  us  from  Satan's  thrall, 
Stand  Thou  in  pity  by, 
When  we  go  forth  to  die. 


IV 
MOTHEE  AND  SON 

The  Mother  stands :  she  peers  adown  the 

street : 
Whom  doth  her  piercing  eye  so  eager 

seek? 
She  trembleth  now,  her  tottering  step 

is  weak : 

Whom  doth  she  seek?    Whom  doth  she 
yearn  to  greet  ? 

C423 


Ah,  doomed  Jesus,  't  is  Thy  bloody  feet 
That  she  doth  see,  Thy  blood-bedewed 

cheek, 
Thy  brow  where  thorns  a  cruel 

vengeance  wreak; 
Alas,  what  misery !  and  thus  they  meet. 

O  Son  and  Mother,  these  are  bitter  woes 
That  ye  have  suffered  in  this  loving 

deed; 
Ye  felt  the  scourging  and  the  bitter 

throes, 

Ye  felt  the  agony  of  hearts  that  bleed. 
Oh,  pity,  mercy,  show  to  my  poor  heart, 
And  grant  that  we  shall  meet,  no  more  to 
part. 


V 
THE  HELP  OF  SIMON 

Who  would  not  love  to  wear 
The  crown  which  Jesus  wears? 

Who  would  not  love  to  bear 
The  cross  which  Jesus  bears? 

But  see,  He  'a  weak  and  worn, 

He  trudgeth  slowly  on, 
A  criminal  forlorn, 

Our  Savior,  weak  and  wan. 

Ah,  woe,  will  none  assist 

The  Christ  with  His  crushing  weight? 
To  His  laboring  sighs  they  list, 

But  they  leave  Him  to  His  fate. 


"He  '11  die  beneath  the  load," 

They  cry, ' '  Bid  some  one  here 
To  help  Him  on  the  road 
Till  Calvary  is  near. ' ' 

0  Simon,  Heavenly  blest 

To  carry  the  Master's  cross; 
Thou  who  art  Jesu's  honored  guest 
Bid  Him  to  give  us  holy  rest, 
And  save  us  from  endless  loss. 


VI 

VERONICA 

Woman,  who  bravest  the  angry  foe, 
To  comfort  thy  Savior  in  His  woe, 
And  soothe  Him  as  deathward  He  doth 

go, 
Thou  art  well  blest ! 


Woman,  who  standest  in  that  dear  place 
Where  floweth  the  flood  of  the  Master's 

grace, 
Who  touchest  the  blood  of  His  own  sweet 

face, 
Thou  art  well  blest ! 

True  image  of  Thyself,  0  Christ, 

Paint  on  my  heart. 
No  other  treasure  let  me  ask 
Than  in  Thy  face's  light  to  bask, 

And  never  wish  to  part. 


He  falls  again ; 
The  crushing  pain 
Speeds,  eager,  through  His  frame : 

£46] 


The  taunt  and  jeer, 
The  guilty  sneer, 
Once  more  their  Victim  claim. 

But  He  struggles  again  to  rise, 

His  hour  is  not  yet  here. 
Blood  and  dust  in  His  eyes, 
And  He  answers  the  murderers '  cries 

He  rises ;  0  Death,  come  near ! 

So  rise,  my  soul  that  fell 
E'en  to. the  brink  of  Hell; 
So  rise  that  fell  before, 
So  rise  to  fall  no  more. 


VIII 
CONSOLATION 

!  Weep  not  for  Me ! ' '  Ah,  pitying,  pity 
ing  God. 
"Weep  not  for  Me,  for  selves  and 

children  weep ! ' ' 

Consoling  Christ,  Who  lifts  no  ven 
geance  rod, 

But  wells  sweet  pity  from  His  God- 
heart  deep. 

Oh,  pitying,  pitying  God, 
Console  us  now  who  cry, 
Who  yearn  to  have  Thee  nigh, 
The  while  we  moan  and  sigh, 

0  pitying,  pitying  God. 

[483 


IX 

THE  THIRD  FALL 

Yet  once  again  He  falls  to  earth, 
Weak  nature  bends  beneath  the  load ; 

The  gentle  face,  besprent  with  blood, 
Doth  kiss  again  the  dusty  road. 

He  knew  't  would  be,  and  yet  He  came 

To  bear  the  misery  of  life ; 
He  knew  't  would  be,  yet  shrank  He  not 

From  battling  in  the  awful  strife. 

0  Master  dear, 

Ungrateful  we 
Let  fall  no  tear 

To  dole  with  Thee. 


Lift  us  from  earth 
Whereon  we  lie ; 

Give  us  new  birth 
Before  we  die. 


X 

THE  STRIPPING 

Behold  Him  now,  His  garments  gone, 
The  shrieking  mobs,  upon  Him  surge : 

The  shame,  the  misery  of  it  all 
'T  is  only  God  can  purge. 

Meek  Lamb  of  virgin  purity, 

He  hath  the  blushing  shame  to  bear ; 
The  countless  deeds  of  wickedness 

Are  laid  upon  Him  there. 

C50] 


Oh,  sin  can  have  no  wage  but  death, 
But  death  and  its  companion  woe ; 

How  gladly  hath  He  paid  the  price 
Because  He  loved  us  so. 

O  Sin,  veil  now  thy  shameful  face 
Before  the  Fountainhead  of  Grace, 
For  thou  hast  lost  thy  kingly  place. 


XI 
THE  CRUCIFIXION 

List  to  the  singing  blows 
Of  the  hammer  upon  the  nail 

As  it  burns  a  way  through  the  tensioned 

hands 
That  never  a  moment  quail. 


Gaze  on  the  carmine  flood 

Deluging  hands  and  feet, 
Fountain  of  Love  on  the  Calvary  Hill ; 

Soon  is  the  deed  complete. 

0  merciful  Jesus  Christ, 
Art  Thou,  Omnipotent  King, 

To  suffer  the  hate  of  the  vilest  men 
Who  at  Thee  insult  fling? 


XII 
DEATH 

The  head  is  bowed  upon  the  breast, 
The  wearied  brain  hath  found  its  rest, 
The  Sun  of  Right  sinks  in  the  west, 
The  deed  is  done. 


The  limbs  are  cold,  the  breeze  sweeps  by, 
The  voice  is  hushed,  gone  every  sigh, 
The  light  is  faded  from  His  eye, 
The  deed  is  done. 

Fall,  darkness,  fall,  and  hide  the  deed ! 

The  deed  is  done. 
Sin  slinks  away  with  sated  greed ; 

The  deed  is  done. 


XIII 

THE  DESCENT 

Sleep  in  the  arms  of  Thy  Mother  now, 

Dead  Jesus  1 
Falling  Her  kisses  upon  Thy  brow, 

Dead  Jesus ! 

But  the  days  of  the  Bethlehem  town  are 
dead, 


And  the  heart  of  the  Mother  is  bitter 

bled 
While  Her  hands  are  caressing  a  thorn- 

crowned  head, 

Dead  Jesus ! 

Press  Him,  Mother,  unto  Thy  heart, 
Pierced  with  the  sword  of  grief ; 

Whisper  a  prayer  for  Thine  other  sons, 
Lead  Him  to  our  relief. 


XIV 
IN  THE  TOMB 

Gently  and  peacefully 
Lay  Him  to  rest, 

Deep  in  the  heart 
Of  the  rock  well  blest. 


Lay  Him  to  sleep, 
Over  Him  weep ; 
Angels  will  keep 
Vigil  for  Him. 

Fasten  the  tomb, 
Deep  in  the  gloom ; 
Lo,  't  is  the  doom, 
Death,  sin  and  death. 


With  Him  our  tears, 
With  Him  our  sighs ; 
With  Him  we  die, 
With  Him  we  rise, 
Christ  Jesus ! 


C55H 


ECCE  HOMO 

Behold  the  man !    And  Pilate  led  Him 

forth, 
The  weak  and  trembling  Christ  before 

the  mob, 
To  beg  for  pity  from  that  herd 

accursed 
That  shouted,  * '  Crucify !    Barabbas 

first! 

This  is  not  Christ.    God's  throne  He 
seeks  to  rob ! ' ' 

Behold  the  man !    Not  sating  craven 
hearts 

£563 


That  seek  the  crown  and  scorn  the 

heavy  cross, 
'T  is  not  on  Him  they  fawn,  He  has 

no  throne ; 
They  want  a  king,  this  Jesus  they 

disown ; 

Their  earthy  eyes  see  not  but  earthy 
dross. 

Behold  the  man!    Gaze  on' His  battered 

face, 
With  soldiers '  spittle  and  with  blood 

besmeared ; 
Look  on  that  brow  where  thorns  run 

riot  wild, 
The  quivering  lips  with  brutal  blow 

defiled ; 

Is  this  the  man  whom  kingly  rulers 
feared? 

[57: 


Behold  the  man !    The  griefs  of  endless 
years 

Well  to  those  eyes  and  trickle  down 
each  cheek ; 

The  view  of  mankind's  sin  is  fixed 
there ; 

The  burning,  burning  view,  the 

aching  care 

All  now  on  Him  their  crushing  ven 
geance  wreak. 

Behold  the  man  1    And  Pilate  led  Him 

back, 
Ambitious  Pilate,  slave  of  Mammon's 

throne ; 
Not  friend  of  truth,  but  one  of 

Caesar 's  friends ; 

''Innocent  of  blood"— the  trial  ends; 
And  to  the  mob  the  Christ  is  given- 
alone. 

C58] 


Behold  the  man !    Ah,  men  once  more 

will  see 
The  kingly  face,  which  now  they  view 

with  hate, 
Not  bloody  then,  but  glowing, 

dazzling  bright, 
Not  crown  of  thorns  but  of  eternal 

light, 

And  lips  that  quivered  once  will  say— 
"  Too  late !" 


[59;] 


THE  WONDEB 

The  wonder  of  it,  not  that  He  hath  died, 
From  clanking  chains  to  set  my  spirit 

free: 
Infinite  Love !  what  else  would  He 

beside? 
The  wonder  of  it— He  created  me. 


THE  DAWN 

Dark,  all  dark  without, 

And  blacker  still  within ; 
The  world  all  light-bereft, 

And  I  enwrapt  in  sin. 
But  lo,  the  dawn 

Comes  conquering  over  night; 
Thou,  too,  shine  forth,  my  soul, 

And  shew  thy  light. 


C61] 


IDEALS 

We  grovel  low ;  the  fountain  spring  of 

youth 

Is  turbid  with  the  lust  of  life ; 
The  light  has  failed,  faint  flushing 

thro'  the  fog, 
And  thus  we  lie  as  cumbrous  as  the 

log, 
Fond  hopes  far  vanished  with  the 

luckless  strife 

That  saw  our  fall  when  fell  our  heart 
from  Truth. 

We  grovel  low ;  is  this,  my  soul,  the  end? 
With  vacant  eyes  and  senseless  heart, 

[623 


With  careworn  feet  that  cannot,  dare  not 

wend 
Their  way  to  quiet  in  some  better 

part: 
With  leprous  hands  one  mass  of 

itching  smart, 

With  powerless  tongues :  0  Death,  thy 
mercy  send! 

We  grovel  low :  No  longer,  0  my  soul ! 
The  spring,  renewed  in  freshness, 

bubbles  bright, 
The  light  fails  not,  all-radiant  gleams 

the  goal, 

The  goal  of  Hope  beneath  Faith's 
quenchless  light. 


THE  PATHWAY 

I  walked  along  the  lane  of  God, 

The  lane— they  call  it  life,— 
And  every  place  my  footsteps  trod 

I  sowed  the  seed  of  strife. 
It  was  not  strife  with  things  and  man — 

That  world  I  loved  too  well— 
'T  was  strife  with  God  my  soul  began ; 

I  laughed  at  death  and  Hell. 

I  walked  along  the  lane  of  God ; 

I  knew  not  I  was  blind, 
Till  on  my  soul  He  laid  His  rod, 

My  Savior,  sweet  and  kind. 


"Oh,  turn  thee  back,  thou  soul,  and  see 

The  harvest  thou  hast  borne ; 
A  dreary  road  thou  madest  Me 
Of  ugly  briar  and  thorn." 

I  walked  along  the  lane  of  God, 
And  God  came  walking,  too ; 
With  heavy  cross  I  heard  Him  plod; 
The  thorns  were  piercing  through. 
1 '  Oh,  wherefore,  Lord,  dost  walk  this 

way? 

Oh,  seek  an  easier  lane." 
"Thy  road  is  Mine,"  I  heard  Him  say, 
"Thou  sowest  all  My  pain." 

I  walked  along  the  lane  of  God, 

And  God  was  at  my  side ; 
I  bore  with  Him  the  Holy  Rod 

Where  He  hangs  crucified. 


I  bent  to  gather  up  the  thorns 

I  sowed  in  evil  years ; 
The  crown  of  them  His 'brow  adorns  - 

I  saw  them  through  my  tears. 


£663 


THE  PRODIGAL  SOUL 

Didst  call,  my  Lord?    I  heard  Thee  call, 

I  of  the  deadened  ear ; 
Thy  voice — as  dripping  waters  fall 

From  off  the  river's  weir. 

I  heard,  my  Lord,  as  hears  at  night 

The  under-songs  of  streams 
Who  rests  him  'neath  the  quiet  light, 

And  speaks  no  tongue  but  dreams. 

And  thus  I  heard,  when  tired  day 

(And  tired  day  is  life) 
Had  left  the  road  a  little  way, 

The  road  of  dust  and  strife. 


Mayhap  I  heard  Thee  at  the  morn ; 

But  morn  has  many  a  voice— 
Wood-calls,  and  sea,  and  strident  horn 

Of  marts  where  men  rejoice. 

Ah,  dead  mine  ear,  for  that  I  craved 
To  feel  why  men  were  glad ; 

And,  truant  child,  I  heedless  braved 
Thy  wrath :  but  youth  is  mad ! 

Could  be  that  Thou  wert  calling  then, 

When  seemed  I  happiest, 
The  days  I  joyed  with  souls  of  men, 

And  felt  their  life  the  best? 

Came  joys  to  me,  full-throated  joys; 

Or  was  it  but  a  dream, 
A  sleep,  where  I  could  hear  no  voice 

Save  of  the  things  that  seem? 

[68] 


I  lived,  but  now  I  know  I  died ; 

For  Death  can  be  Life 's  mime. 
No  marvel,  when  Thy  voice  had  cried, 

I  heard  but  sleep 's  dream-rhyme. 

Didst  wake  me,  Lord  ?  somehow  I  heard ; 

I  felt  no  spittle-sign, 
No  soft  Ephpheta's  opening  word, 

Thy  lips  close  unto  mine. 

Somehow  I  heard,  as  one  at  eve 

May  hear  the  forest-bird, 
And  wonders  did  the  morning  weave 

Such  spells— yet  all  unheard. 

Didst  call,  my  Lord  ?    Yea,  Lord,  I  know 

Thou  hast  been  calling  me, 
O'er  hills  of  spring,  o'er  drifts  of  snow, 

Till  I  had  answered  Thee. 

[69] 


I  heard  Thee,  Lord,  as  eager  hears 
The  saddened,  truant  lad 

The  voice  of  her  who  seeks  in  tears— 
Lord,  are  they  not  both  glad? 

Thou  callest,  Lord ;  I  hear  Thee  well, 

I  of  the  opened  ear. 
My  soul,  a  wakened  Samuel, 

Cries  out : ' '  Speak,  Lord,  I  hear. ' ' 


THE  LIGHT 

Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Mounting  over  the  hill, 

Glinting  the  feathery  vapors, 
Silvering  chattering  rill ; 

Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Cometh  so  soft  and  still. 

Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Flooding  the  rounded  sky, 

Glowing  with  fullest  ardor, 
Looking  so  low,  so  high ; 

Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Answereth  Dark's  lone  cry. 


Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Creeping  below  the  line, 

Smiling  on  lonesome  earthdom, 
Kissing  the  moaning  brine ; 

Light  that  is  presage  of  Heaven 
Be  to  my  soul  God's  Sign. 


C723 


IN  PEACE 

Peace,  as  the  groves  have  peace 
"When  throbs  of  the  daytime  cease, 

And  the  moonbeams  creep 

Where  the  wee  birds  sleep, 

And  into  the  lair  of  the  squirrels  peep, 
Murmuring  peace,  sweet  peace. 

Peace,  which  the  waters  know, 

Hushed  their  noisy  flow, 
When  the  gray  moonlight 
And  the  starshine  bright 
Still  all  the  fears  of  the  gruesome 
night, 

Murmuring  peace,  sweet  peace. 

C73] 


Peace,  fairer  far  than  this, 
Cover  us  with  its  bliss ; 

And  the  evening  star 

From  the  land  afar 

Will  guide  us  to  haven  across  the  bar, 
Murmuring  peace,  God's  peace. 


C74] 


AN  OFFERING 

Only  a  broken  vessel,  Lord, 

I  offer  Thee  to-day, 
A  lowly,  broken  vessel,  Lord, 

Made  out  of  sinful  clay. 

'T  was  fashioned  once  of  fairest  form, 

A  goodly,  holy  sight, 
When  Thy  kind  hand  had  moulded  it, 

And  blessed  it  with  Thy  light. 

*T  was  meant  to  be  for  Thee  alone, 

Thy  gifts  alone  to  hold ; 
Oh,  it  was  shining,  dazzling  bright, 

Like  lustrous  beaten  gold. 


Ah,  had  I  ever  kept  it  so, 
A  treasure  for  Thy  grace, 

It  would  not  be  so  worthless  now 
Before  Thy  holy  face. 

And  I  with  earth's  delusive  gifts 

Did  fill  this  vessel  fair ; 
Alas,  they  were  a  foulsome  weight 

The  vessel  could  not  bear. 

Behold,  0  Lord,  how  many  a  scar, 
How  many  a  deadly  seam ; 

Where  once  was  all  so  glorious, 
Where  Heavenly  light  did  gleam. 

I  shudder,  Lord,— wilt  Thou  accept 

Such  lowly  gift  as  this  ? 
Unlovely  vessel  fouled  by  sin, 

Yet  yearning  now  for  bliss. 

L76] 


Ah,  Lord,  I  needs  must  cry  despair, 
Didst  Thou  not  speak  to  me ; 

A  broken  heart,  repaired  in  grief, 
Will  be  received  by  Thee! 

So,  Lord,  this  broken  vase  is  Thine ; 

Come  with  Thy  grace  to  fill ; 
And  may  it  ever  near  Thy  heart 

Love's  perfume  sweet  distil. 


[77] 


A  HEALTH 

Health,  to  Thee,  0  Christ! 

I  drink  the  health  of  my  King : 
Health  to  the  Man  that  has  priced 

My  soul  at  His  suffering. 

Health  to  Thee,  0  Friend ! 

I  drink  my  goblet  of  pain : 
No  cup  where  the  red  drops  blend 

In  the  flow  of  the  grape-vine's  rain. 

Health  to  Thee,  0  Christ ! 

I  drink,  Thy  brother  and  priest ; 
0  blessed  our  altar-tryst, 

Where  I  on  Thy  blood  may  feast ! 


BLOOD  BROTHERHOOD 

Lord,  make  a  brotherhood  with  me, 
For  God  is  Thy  Sire  and  mine ; 

By  bond  of  love  we  will  brothers  be, 
And  our  blood  will  be  the  sign. 

Lord,  make  a  brotherhood  of  blood ; 

And  here  is  the  cup  of  gold. 
Under  Thy  wounds  of  the  carmine  flood 

The  goblet  of  love  I  hold. 

Oh,  hot  Thy  blood,  my  Brother  Christ, 

As  into  the  cup  it  drips ; 
"What  draught  of  life  for  our  loving  tryst 

That  lureth  my  parched  lips ! 


Lord,  make  a  brotherhood  with  me, 
And  fasten  my  soul  to  Thine. 

I  .have  drunk  Thy  blood  of  fraternity. 
Wilt  Thou  ease  Thy  throat  with  mine? 


WHEN  DEATH  COMES 

If  I  could  have  my  will, 

I  would  not  calmly  die, 
Lying  so  cold  and  still, 

With  loved  ones  kneeling  by. 

I  would  not  fall  to  sleep, 

While  chaplet-croons  were  said, 
And  tender  eyes  did  weep 

That  I  would  soon  be  dead. 

If  I  could  have  my  way,    ' 

I  would  not  calmly  die ; 
E'en  though  God's  Mother  lay 

In  peace  as  death  came  nigh. 


If  I  could  have  my  will, 
I  'd  go  in  blood  and  sweat, 

While  out  my  blood  did  spill 
From  sword  or  bayonet. 

I  'd  go  with  lopped  hands, 
With  lopped  feet  as  well, 

While  all  the  earth's  dull  sands 
Were  reddened  where  I  fell. 

I  'd  go  as  went  my  Chief : 
Lord,  am  I  not  a  Christ? 

Nor  would  I  crave  relief 
Till  I  had  all  sufficed. 

I  'd  go  as  Peter  went, 
Head-down  upon  the  tree ; 

I  'd  spend  as  Paul  him  spent 
Till  sword-cut  set  him  free. 

C82] 


If  I  could  have  my  will, 

I  'd  prove  my  loyalty 
By  pouring  blood  until 

My  Lord  had  said :  "  Let  be ! " 

0  leper  soul  of  mine, 

No  other  boon  canst  crave 

But  in  the  dust  to  pine, 
Far  from  the  martyrs  brave. 

If  I  could  have  my  way— 
But,  Lord,  be  Thy  way  mine. 

Me  as  a  coward  slay, 
If  I  may  be  but  Thine. 


£831] 


A  PRAYER 

Could  pain  make  all  things  right, 
Ease  me  of  sin,  and  so  restore 

My  darkened  soul  unto  Thy  light, 

Send  pain,  0  Lord,  and  bruise  me  sore. 

Could  death  make  all  things  right, 
Pay  for  the  days  of  wasted  life, 

And  make  my  soul  a  pleasing  sight, 
With  death,  0  Lord,  I  'd  make  no 
strife. 

Could  love  make  all  things  right, 
Wash  white  my  scarlet  robe  of  sin— 

0  Love,  whose  love  is  infinite, 
Give  me  the  love  Thy  love  to  win. 

C84H 


FOR  LOVE 

No  task  is  menial  which  our  Master 

sends, 
If  love  suffuse  it  with  its  Heavenly 

light; 
He  washed  the  feet  of  them,  His  lowly 

friends— 
A  common  task,  by  love  made  holy  rite. 


EOYAL  GIFTS 

Came  a  prince  from  regions  far 
Guided  by  the  wondrous  star : 
Wherefore,  Prince,  this  gift  of  gold 
Which  thou  lettest  Jesu  hold? 
Of  thy  gold  He  needs  no  part, 
For  He  owns  Her  golden  heart. 

Came  a  prince  with  incense  rare 
As  a  breath  of  Eden's  air: 
Wherefore,  Prince,  this  goodly  scent 
O'er  His  little  crib  besprent? 
Needs  He  not  thy  choice  perfume, 
While  the  Sharon  Eose  doth  bloom. 

[86] 


Came  a  prince  with  gift  of  myrrh 
(Prophet  of  His  sepulchre) : 
Wherefore,  Prince,  the  unction  sweet 
At  the  little  Jesu's  feet? 
Arab 's  balm  He  will  not  miss 
While  He  feels  His  Mother's  kiss. 


C-87] 


GOD'S  BEST 

"The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the 
air  nests ;  but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where 
to  lay  His  head."— St.  Luke:  ix,  58. 

0  foxes  sheltered  from  the  wold, 

How  can  ye  rest  abed, 
While  little  Jesus  is  so  cold, 

No  place  to  lay  His  head? 

O  birds  that  build  your  downy  nest, 

How  can  ye  be  so  gay, 
When  not  a  place  hath  Mary  blest 

Her  little  Bird  to  lay? 


0  Jesu,  seek  not  foxes '  lair, 
Nor  crave  the  wee  birds '  nest : 

Oh,  make  my  heart  a  dwelling  fair, 
And  in  it  take  Thy  rest. 


[89] 


OUR  LADY'S  TREES 

What  saw  our  Lady  in  the  tree, 

The  thorny  tree? 

Oh,  what  but  spines  all  long  and  red 
To  crown  Her  little  Jesu's  head! 

What  saw  our  Lady  in  the  tree, 

The  aspen  tree  f 

Oh,  what  but  rods  to  make  the  flail 
Would  make  Her  Jesu's  body  quail! 

What  saw  our  Lady  in  the  tree, 

The  cedar- tree? 

Oh,  what  but  beams  to  weigh  Her  loss— 
Her  Jesu's  body  on  the  cross ! 


MY  GOD 

Mighty  God  they  name  Thee, 

God  Omnipotent ; 
Euler  they  acclaim  Thee 

Of  the  world's  extent ; 
Yea,  but  I,  a  lowly  clod, 
Call  Thee  this-My  God. 

King  of  Heaven  they  bless  Thee, 

King  eternally ; 
God  they  do  confess  Thee 

Of  infinity ; 

Yea,  but  I,  the  lowliest  clod, 
Call  Thee  ihis-My  God. 


FAITH,  HOPE,  LOVE,  AND  PEACE 

My  Lord,  I  will  not  grieve 
How  faith  on  earth  is  dead ; 

What  mysteries  Thy  priests  believe 
Who  break  their  Daily  Bread ! 

My  Lord,  I  will  not  moan 
How  black  is  earth's  despair ; 

For  I  have  heard  the  sinner  groan 
In  penitential  prayer. 

My  Lord,  I  will  not  dole 

How  love  is  gone  away ; 
I  saw  it  in  a  maiden 's  soul 

Her  First-Communion  Day. 

C92] 


My  Lord,  I  will  not  sigh 
How  war  is  everywhere  ; 

I  saw  an  Irish  granny  die— 
0  Lord,  what  peace  was  there ! 


C93] 


THE  EPIPHANY 

If  I  were  a  king  this  festal  day, 
In  a  regal  palace  I  would  not  stay, 
I  would  ease  my  coffers  of  yellow  gold, 
Enough  for  my  royal  train  to  hold ; 
Oh,  gold  and  sceptre  and  crown  I  'd 

bring 
As  a  gift  of  love  to  the  baby  King. 

If  I  were  a  king  of  Orient, 

From  the  rarest  trees  I  would  take  their 

scent, 

I  would  make  me  the  fairest  golden  urn, 
And  there  would  I  let  mine  incense  burn : 

[94] 


0  blessed  my  royal  hands  to  swing 
The  perfumed  clouds  for  the  little  King. 

If  I  were  a  king  this  holy  morn, 

My  brow  with  a  crown  I  'd  not  adorn ; 

But  with  bared  feet  and  with  bared  head 

1  'd  lay  the  myrrh  at  His  manger-bed. 
Oh,  vials  of  odorous  myrrh  I  'd  bring, 
For  unction  sweet  of  my  Savior-King. 

If  I  were  a  king— in  truth  am  I 
But  the  lowliest  vassal  beneath  the  sky ; 
No  treasure  I  have,  no  frankincense, 
Nor  the  smell  of  the  myrrhed  cerements ; 
Oh,  naught  can  I  give  but  the  poorest 

thing,  - 
My  heart  and  its  love,  0  loving  King. 


OUR  LADY'S  CANDLEMAS  HYMN 

Open  Thine  eyes,  my  Jesu  sweet, 
The  doves  are  cooing  above  the  street, 
Thy  white  little  brothers,  the  lambkins, 

bleat, 
And  the  sun  is  waiting  Thy  smile  to 

greet. 

Up,  little  one,  from  the  manger's  hay — 

0  sacred  crib  where  my  Sweet  One  lay  !— 
To  the  Holy  City  we  must  away, 

For,  Son,  't  is  Thy  Presentation  Day. 

Safe  to  my  bosom  undefiled, 

1  '11  gather  Thee  close,  my  baby  mild, 


Oh,  heed  not  the  winds  if  they  blow  full 

wild, 
Thy  father  and  I  will  guard  Thee,  Child. 

0  little  Dove,  two  doves  we  '11  buy, 
Thy  Mother  and  Thee  to  purify, 
Oh,  happy  the  little  doves  to  die 
To  make  us  pleasing  to  God  Most  High. 

0  little  Lambkin  that  hast  lain 
Close  to  my  heart,  my  joy,  my  pain, 

1  '11  offer  Thee  up  with  the  lambkins  slain, 
And  buy  Thee  back  to  my  heart  again. 

Up,  little  Dove !    How  sweet  't  would  be 
To  cage  Thee  here  for  eternity ! 
But  no,  little  bird,  I  will  set  Thee  free, 
For,  long  have  the  just  ones  watched  for 
Thee. 

C97] 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  FLOWERS 

When  I  cull  the  violet— 
Soft-eyed,  dew-eyed  violet,— 

See,  I  bring  it  to  thy  shrine ; 

Lady,  I  'd  not  keep  it  mine : 
For  the  soft-eyed  violet, 
With  the  heavenly  vapors  wet, 
With  its  perfume  like  thy  breath 
That  en-odored  Nazareth,— 

Wherefore,  Lady,  should  it  be 

But  to  tell  its  love  to  thee  ? 

When  I  cut  the  daffodil— 
Deep-heart,  gold-heart  daffodil,— 

£983 


See,  I  lay  it  at  thy  feet ; 

Surely,  Lady,  it  is  meet : 
For  the  deep-heart  daffodil 
Where  the  heavenly  dews  distil, 
With  its  yellow-golden  cup, 
Like  thine  heart  with  love  filled  up,— 

Lady,  ne'er  a  flower  made  He, 

But,  I  trow,  to  'dizen  thee. 


THE  KING'S  HIGHWAY 

I  saw  her  walking  through  the  field, 
God's  Mother  with  her  Son, 

And  every  little  flower-bell  pealed 
To  praise  the  Holy  One. 

And  every  lily  lifted  up 
To  see  the  wondrous  thing, 

As  bearers  of  a  dew-filled  cup 
Before  the  little  King. 

Oh,  every  little  rose  upturned 

To  wave  as  He  did  pass, 
And  every  little  sunbeam  burned 

Its  incense  on  the  grass  I 

1:1003 


Oh,  every  little  piping  bird 
Did  trumpet  from  the  tree, 

And  every  little  lambkin  heard, 
And  danced,  God's  Lamb  to  see ! 

Oh,  Nature  all  did  serenade 
God's  Mother  and  her  Son; 

And  then  I  knew  why  God  had  made 
His  creatures — every  one! 


TO  MARY 

0  Lady,  fairest  Lady, 

1  bring  from  bowers  shady 

The  violets  white,  the  violets  blue, 
And  twine  them  as  a  crown  for  You : 
Is  it  that  little  violets  guess 
The  wonder  of  their  blessedness  ? 

0  Mary,  Virgin  Mary, 

God's  Flower  extraordinary, 

From  out  this  garden's  heart  of  mine 

A  wreath  of  Aves  I  entwine : 

Oh,  will  I  ever  really  know 

What  grace  was  mine  to  love  You  so  ? 


C1023 


OUR  LADYE  OF  THE  ROSARY 

Wouldst  Thou  teach  me  how  to  pray, 

Ladye  of  the  Rosary? 
Teach  these  faltering  lips  to  say 

Mystic  songs  to  honor  Thee  I 

Teach  me,  then,  to  clasp  the  beads 
As  the  good  Saint  Dominic, 

When  he  prayed  Thee  for  the  needs 
Of  the  Albyan  heretic. 

Teach  my  lips  to  tell  Thy  praise 
As  the  holy  nuns  and  priests, 

Chanting  anthems  all  their  days 
For  the  glory  of  Thy  feasts. 

C103: 


Teach  me  to  declare  my  love, 

As  the  little  lisping  girl, 
Sending  Av e-songs  above, 

Holding  fast  her  beads  of  pearl. 

Teach  my  lips  to  say  the  prayers 
Which  the  Irish  granny  saith, 

Holding  fast  Thy  chain  she  wears, 
Slave  of  Thine  in  life,  in  death. 

Wouldst  Thou  teach  me  how  to  pray, 

Ladye  of  the  Rosary? 
Teach  me  in  the  mother- way, 

Lisping  infant  at  Thy  knee. 


C104] 


OUE  LADY'S  TROUBADOUR 

He  was  Our  Lady's  troubadour, 
And  well  he  loved  Our  Lady,  too, 

As  oft  he  sang  her  praises  o  'er 
In  this,  the  only  song  he  knew, 
Ave  Maria! 

He  came  not  from  the  Orient  far, 

He  wore  no  hose  and  doublet  gay; 
He  played  not  on  a  light  guitar, 
But  sang  this  song— an  old  man's 
lay,— 

Ave  Maria! 

He  was  Our  Lady's  Troubadour, 
This  poor  old  man  from  Erin's  Isle, 


Who  sang  this  same  song  o  'er  and  o  'er, 
And  thumbed  his  Eosary  the  while, 
Ave  Maria! 

And  from  the  Castle  window  high 
Our  Lady's  favor  to  him  fell; 

In  Heaven,  her  troubadour  for  aye, 
He  sings— another  Gabriel— 
Ave  Maria! 


C-1063 


THE  HELPER 

My  crown  of  thorns  is  great  and  strong, 
My  scourging  cords  are  thick  and  long, 
My  cross  is  monstrous  high  and  wide ; 
What  matter?    God  is  at  my  side. 


C107H 


THE  VISION  OF  THE  CROSS 

Beneath  the  branching  trees, 
Against  the  April  sky, 

The  Virgin  Mary  sees 
The  immolation  nigh. 

Oh,  every  twig  '&  a  cross, 
And  every  cross  the  hilt 

Of  sword— 0  bitter  loss ! 
Must  His  life-blood  be  spilt ! 

No  marvel,  trees,  ye  moan 
And  shiver  in  the  dark, 

That  one  of  you  must  groan 
Beneath  His  body  stark. 


No  marvel,  Mother  dear, 
The  vision  clouds  Thy  joy, 

To  see  the  moment  near 
That  crucifies  Thy  Boy. 

For  soon  His  Tree  will  grow, 
And  soon  His  Tree  will  fall, 

And  soon  the  hammer 's  blow 
Will  echo  to  Thy  call. 

Aye,  soon  when  Thou  wilt  stand 

Upon  the  fated  hill, 
To  take  Thy  Jesu's  hand 

When  death  has  done  its  will. 

*     *     # 

Oh,  Mother,  Queen  of  woes, 
So  stand  beneath  my  tree, 

When  forth  my  spirit  goes 
To  mount  its  Calvary. 

£109  3 


THE  MOTHER'S  QUEST 

"And,  not  finding  Him,  they  returned  into 
Jerusalem,  seeking  Him."— St.  Luke:  n,  45. 


Have  you  seen  my  little  Love 

Going  by  your  door? 
Off  He  flew,  my  little  Dove, 

And  my  heart  is  sore. 

You  would  know  my  little  Boy, 

Dressed  in  white  and  brown. 

i 

How  my  heart  o'erflowed  with  joy 
As  I  wove  His  gown ! 


You  would  know  Him  from  His  hair, 

All  of  raven  hue ; 
You  would  know  Him  anywhere, 

Once  He  looked  at  you. 

Oh,  if  you  should  see  my  Own, 
Seeking  out  His  home, 

Tell  Him  how  my  joy  has  flown 

i 
As  the  streets  I  roam. 

Lead  Him  in  beside  thy  hearth, 

Bid  Him  there  remain ; 
Tell  Him,  though  I  search  the  earth, 

I  will  come  again. 

And  if  hungry  He  should  be, 
Give  Him  of  your  bread ;         | 

If  He  nod  so  wearily, 
Make  His  little  bed. 

CHI] 


Woman,  if  you  see  my  Boy, 

Oh,  to  Him  be  kind ! 
You  will  have  the  fullest  joy,- 

Lo,  't  is  God  you  '11  find ! 


SAINT  JOSEPH  IN  EGYPT 

Little  Jesus,  close  Thy  lids 
In  the  shade  of  pyramids ; 
Cuddle  to  Thy  Mother's  breast, 
Fear  is  fled ;  now  calmly  rest. 
Little  Jesus,  Holy  One, 
Child  Who  art  my  foster-son, 
I  have  led  Thee  weary  miles, 
Saving  Thee  from  Herod's  wiles, 
0  'er  the  burning  Af ric  sand 
Into  Egypt's  bondage-land, 
Where  our  sainted  fathers  slaved, 
Ere  the  God  of  justice  saved. 


Child  of  Her,  my  Virgin- spouse 
Whom  the  humble  barn  did  house, 
Lowlier  dwelling  here  give  I, 
Couch  of  sand  beneath  the  sky. 
Jesu,  must  it  ever  be, 
Pain  and  poverty  for  Thee  ? 
Oh,  my  love  would  rear  a  throne 
Eicher  than  the  Pharaoh's  own ; 
I  would  build  for  Thee  and  Her, 
I,  the  lowly  carpenter, 
Palaces  of  precious  stone 
Where  we  three  might  dwell  alone. 

Little  one,  I  do  but  dream 

Of  the  things  that  pleasant  seem. 

What  would  we  with  Kingly  home, 

We  who  bidden  are  to  roam? 

What  would  we  with  joys  of  earth 

We  who  know  whence  Thou  hadst  birth  1 

C114] 


Life  is  but  an  Egypt  night 

Where  we  yearn  for  morning's  light, 

Life  is  but  a  bondage  place 

Till  we  see  Thy  Father's  face. 

Bondage— ah,  but  little  Child 

Thou  hast  made  our  bondage  mild. 

Into  bondage  have  I  led 

Her  and  Thee,  my  Worshiped ; 

But  when  comes  the  Lord's  command, 

Back  to  Thine  own  Holy  Land 

I  will  lead  Thee,  little  Slave, 

There  to  die,  my  soul  to  save. 

Then,  my  Jesus,  Thou  wilt  be 

Guardian  of  Her  and  me, 

Leading  us  from  Egypt's  night 

Into  God's  eternal  light. 


THE  THREE  HOME-COMINGS 

Ah,  glad  the  day  Our  Lady  came 

To  Nazareth  the  lowly, 
To  Nazareth  of  blessed  name, 

To  Nazareth  the  holy. 
Ah,  weak  Our  Lady  was  and  spent, 
As  down  to  Nazareth  she  went, 
But  in  her  heart  was  Heaven's  joy, 
For  she  was  home  with  God,  Her  Boy. 

Ah,  sad  the  day  Our  Lady  came 

Unto  the  Holy  City, 
From  Calvary,  the  hill  of  shame, 

Where  He  had  found  no  pity. 


Ah,  desolate  the  Mother  old, 
And  desolate  her  hearthstone  cold ; 
'T  was  home,  but  home  was  not  for  her, 
Save  in  her  Jesu's  sepulchre. 

Ah,  sing  the  day  Our  Lady  came 

From  out  her  earthly  prison, 
When  angels  sang  in  glad  acclaim 

To  see  God's  Mother  risen. 
Ah,  eager  did  Our  Lady  rise 
Unto  her  dwelling  in  the  skies, 
For  Heaven  was  home,  and  home  the 

place 
To  see  for  aye  her  Jesu's  face. 


£117] 


THE  WASTE  PLACES 

My  Love  came  running  eagerly 

Across  the  morning  hills ; 
I  knew  His  soul  desired  me, 

As  hart  the  sparkling  rills. 
I  hid  me  from  my  Love  that  day, 

I  answered  not  His  cry ; 
I  saw  Him  sadly  turn  away — 

I  knew  not  He  must  die. 

My  Love,  I  weep  the  dreary  night : 
The  other  loves  I  sought 

Have  turned  to  vileness  in  my  sight, 
And  only  anguish  brought. 


0  Love,  if  Thou  wilt  come  again 
Across  the  evil  years, 

1  '11  serve  Thee  with  my  fullest  pain, 
And  pledge  Thee  in  my  tears. 


[1193 


THE  RIVER  OF  TEARS 

"In  hac  lacrymarum  valle."— The  Salve 
Eegina. 

Under  my  heart  a  river  flows, 
And  no  one  else  its  burden  hears ; 

Under  my  heart  it  ceaseless  goes, 
The  river  of  tears. 

Gaily  I  laugh,  and  gaily  sing, 

A  gladsome  place  the  earth  appears ; 

But  under  my  heart  't  is  murmuring, — 
The  river  of  tears. 

Merry  is  life  and  full  of  light, 
And  love  sings  louder  than  all  my  fears, 

[120: 


But  sad  it  moans  in  the  long,  still  night, 
The  river  of  tears. 

0  life,  is  all  of  thy  mirth  a  show, 
A  moment's  dream  in  eternal  years? 

Is  this  the  real  that  sorrows  so, 
The  river  of  tears? 

Under  the  world  the  waters  wend, 
And  life  their  moaning  ever  hears ; 

For  only  the  sea  of  God's  heart  will  end 
The  river  of  tears. 


UNTRAMMELLED 

Cor  ad  cor  loquitur. 
Ex  umbris  et  imaginibus  in  veritatem. 
(Two  mottoes  of  Newman.) 

Soul  speaking  soul,  not  waiting  for  the 

flesh 
Of  tongue,  or  ear,  or  eye  to  mould  the 

word; 
Not  bursting  heart  to  make  it  sound 

aright, 

And  then  to  die  ere  its  true  strain  be 
heard. 

Soul  speaking  soul,  not  dragging  endless 
years 

£122  3 


Behind  a  living  corpse,  that  strove  to 

speak 
From  wondrous  deeps  of  love,  but  all  in 

vain; 
The  mightiest,  burning  words  it  spake, 

too  weak. 

Soul  speaking  soul,  not  dying  in  the 

gloom, 

Afraid  to  let  its  whisper  plead  for  light; 
Afraid  to  say,  *  *  the  depths  of  all  my 

love, ' ' 

Afraid  to  beg  its  freedom  from  the 
night. 

Soul  speaking  soul,  ah!  bliss  of  God's 

good  Heaven, 

Knowing  as  known  within  His  holy 
place ; 

£123  3 


Soul  unto  soul,  no  mirror's  dim  re 
flection, 

But  love,  and  love  untrammelled,  face 
to  face. 


[124] 


THE  POPLARS 

Straight  and  tall  the  poplars  grow 
Even  to  my  window  high : 

Turning  from  the  earth  below, 
Every  branch  desires  the  sky. 

Be  my  life,  0  Lord,  a  tree, 

Like  the  poplar  tall  and  straight, 
Rising  from  earth's  misery, 

Till  it  touches  Heaven's  gate. 


[125] 


LOVE'S  COMING 

Love  comes  with  a  whisper  soft  and  low, 
As  the  breeze  in  the  August  trees, 

Or  as  ripples  of  brine  in  a  rhythm  slow 
At  the  edge  of  the  dusky  seas. 

Love  comes  with  a  whisper  soft  and  low, 

But  the  love  of  God  it  comes  not  so. 

Love  comes  with  a  footstep  still  and  slow, 
As  the  light  to  the  gates  of  day ; 

Or  as  timid  beams  from  the  soft  moon's 

glow, 
When  the  cloud-mists  melt  away. 

Love  comes  with  a  footstep  still  and  slow, 

But  the  love  of  God  it  comes  not  so. 

C126] 


God's  love — it  blows  as  the  wild  winds 

blow, 

For  His  love  is  a  wind  of  might ; 
God's  love — it  glows  as  the  noon-fires 

glow, 

For  His  love  is  Eternal  Light. 
Love  comes  with  a  whisper  soft  and  low, 
But  the  love  of  God,  it  comes  not  so. 


[127;] 


LOVE  WATCHETH 

Down  the  lane  of  the  April  night 
I  saw  the  track  of  His  shoon, 

And  I  saw  His  mist-robes  touched 

with  light 
As  He  swung  His  lantern-moon. 

Down  the  lane  of  the  April  skies, 
Ah  well  did  I  know  't  was  He, 

As  He  flashed  His  lamp  upon  mine 

eyes, 
And  spake  to  me  tenderly. 

0  Watchman,  weary  the  night, ' '  I 
cried; 

C128] 


"Why  earnest  Thou  not  before?" 
And  the  Lord  said :  *  *  Long  have  I 

watched  outside, 
Till  Love  unbarred  thy  door. " 


C129] 


TO  A  WHITE  VIOLET 

So  small,  infinitesimal, 

Violet  white ; 
But  the  sheen  of  feathery  screen 

Before  moon's  light 

Is  not  more  white. 

So  small,  infinitesimal, 

Yet,  so  great, 
Heaven  and  earth  have  known  their  birth 

By  the  Power 

That  made  thee,  flower. 

So  small— yet  Heaven  and  earth 

Were  made  to  be : 
So  great— for  Heaven  and  earth 

Could  not  make  thee. 


WHERE  WATERS  MEET 

Comes  Joy  upon  the  hills, 

Exultant  hills  of  youth  : 
And  life- springs  laugh  in  singing  rills 

From  hearts  that  know  not  ruth. 

Comes  Grief  within  the  vale, 

The  vale  of  scarred  years ; 
And  life-springs  surge  in  moaning  wail  - 

For  life  is  only  tears. 

Comes  Joy  upon  the  sea, 
Where  all  life  *s  waters  end ; 

And  Joy  that  once  seemed  Grief  to  me 
Is  fairer  at  the  end. 


CHANGELESS 

Fade,  withered  flower,  thy  life  was  but  a 

day, 
Thy  spirit  long  since  wafted  o  'er  the 

lea, 
Thou  but  a  shadow,  blown  and  lost  for 

aye, 
And  other  flowers  will  list  the  same 

decree. 
But  lo,  the  breath  of  One  here 

lingers  still 

From  out  the  land  of  immortality, 
Weighted  with  breath  of  incense 

Heavenly, 
And  thus  it  ever  will,  it  ever  will. 

£132  ] 


Fall,  empire,  fall,  from  weariness  and 

age, 
And  let  the  desert's  sand  whirl  o'er 

thy  tomb ; 
Draw  to  thine  heart  philosopher  and 

sage, 
And  crouch  forgot,  to  give  new 

empires  room. 
But  see,  the  Hand  that  made  thee 

lingers  still, 
Unwrinkled  by  thy  years,  young  as  thy 

doom, 
And  there  upon  His  cheek  eternal 

bloom, 
And  thus  it  ever  will,  it  ever  will. 

Die,  things  of  earth,  annihilation 's  spoil, 
And  seek  your  grandsire  in  his  empty 
home; 


The  end  has  come  to  judge  your  ended 

toil, 
Nothing  the  end,  as  nothing  was  the 

proem. 

But  over  all  your  deathcry  lingers 
still 

The  Voice  that  shakes  the  Infinite's 

broad  dome 
Dividing  to  men's  souls  the  earned 

nome, 
And  thus  it  ever  will,  it  ever  will. 


[134  3 


AT  DAWN 

Glow,  shimmering  sea  of  ether,  tinted 

bright, 
Aurora's  smile  is  mirrored  in  thy 

face; 
In  eyes  of  angels  thou  hast  seen  the 

light, 
And  lured  it  from  the  golden, 

Heavenly  place. 
Thou  hast  creation's  charms  in  thine 

embrace, 

The  fairest  of  the  fair.    0  happy  sight ! 
Transforming  touch !    Who  thinks  it 
e'er  was  night! 


0  golden  sun,  crave  not  the  zenith's  height ! 
Far  sweeter  thus  where  cherub  cloud 
lets  chase. 

Is  Charon  dead,  and  dost  thou  celebrate 
His  longed-for  end  in  deathly  Styx 
below, 

And  with  this  signaling  dost  thou  relate 
To  mortal  man  that  he  no  fear  may 

know! 
• 

Thy  golden  torches  brighter,  fairer  grow, 
Victorious  over  night  they  wave  elate, 
And  on  his  darkly  robes  their  fury  sate ; 
Up,  up  in  praise  thou  sluggard  man, 

ingrate, 
Cry  out  thy  bravos  for  this  wondrous 

show! 

0  wondrous  mount,  where  vagrant 
clouds  have  mined, 

C136H 


And  found  the  treasures  that  would 

buy  an  earth, 
An  earth  of  gold  with  diamond  chains 

entwined, 

'T  is  man  alone  who  slights  thy  count 
less  worth, 
And  scorns  the  hand  Divine  that  gave 

thee  birth : 

The  earthly  eye  alone  to  thee  is  blind, 
For  thou  dost  silence  e'en  the  blatant 

wind, 
And  make  the  swarthy  nighttime  crawl 

behind : 

But  man  alone  brings  discord  to  the 
mirth. 

Is  yon  the  portal  of  infinity, 

The  draperies  that  shield  the  golden 
hall, 


Whence  flows  the  light  of  broad  eternity, 
A-piercing  the  transparent  colored 

wall? 

Is  it  the  shadow  of  the  gleams  that  fall 
On  angel  wings  flashed  by  the  golden  sea, 
The  golden  throne  of  mighty  Deity, 
A  forward  gleam  of  what  our  love 

will  be, 

When  He  will  come,  His  children 
home  to  call? 

Is  yon  the  image  of  another  sphere, 
Where  all  is  jewelled  with  undying 

flame 

Of  unconsuming  fire,  that  dares  to  peer 
Beyond  the  ramparts  of  our  glory 

tame? 

0  earthliness,  hast  thou  no  power  to 
claim 

C138] 


One  gleam  of  that,  to  keep  it  ever  here, 
To  smile  on  us,  when  darkliness  will  leer, 
One  gleam  the  sadness  of  our  soul  to 

cheer  f 
0  earth,  to  hold  what  light  from 

Heaven  came ! 

Aye,  verily,  thou  mount  of  jewels  rare, 

Beside  a  lake  of  sparkling  reddest  wine, 
Each  to  the  other  lisping  love- tales  there, 
And  flashing  smiles  which  only  souls 

divine, 
Till  both  pure  hearts  in  one  sweet 

smile  entwine, 

And  tell,  by  all  the  joyousness  they  wear, 
How  love  is  happiness  beyond  compare, 
And  life  a  glory  in  those  regions  fair, 
The  border  of  the  Sun-god's  golden 
mine. 

C139] 


But  them  art  fairer  far,  transplendent 

one, 

When  lo !  I  liken  to  thy  golden  sheen 
The  smile  of  Him,  the  eastern  flaming 

Sun, 
That  came  to  earth,  the  flesh  of  man 

as  screen, 

And  thro '  that  dimmed  cloud,  unseen 
His  Godhead,  when  the  night  of  sin  had 

run 

In  darksome  course  its  folly  long  begun, 
Flashed  forth  His  glory,  victory  all  won, 
And  made  man  happy  in  His  light 
serene. 


C140] 


LOVE 

He  needed  us  not,  but  He  gave  us  being, 
To  dust  He  granted  the  power  of  seeing 
The  works  of  the  arm  of  eternal  might, 
And  knowing  the  bliss  of  the  Godhead's 

light: 
0  man,  thou  hast  sounded  the  Sea  of 

Love! 


AN  ALLELUIA 

(ON  THE  ALLELUIA  OF  THE  SIXTH  MODE) 

That  haunting  strain,  it  follows  me  by 

day, 

It  creeps  beneath  my  pillow  ere  I  sleep, 
It  flows  as  obligate  when  I  pray, 
And  o'er  my  thoughts  unceasing 
watch  doth  keep. 

I  like  to  think  my  angel  heard  the  strain 
Before  the  throne  in  ages  long  ago, 

Eejoicing  now  to  sing  the  song  again 
In  measure  gentle,  sweet,  and  calm, 
and  low. 

C142J 


Ah,  Alleluia !    God,  I  praise  Thy  name ; 

Ah,  Alleluia !  't  is  a  hymn  gets  love ; 
And  in  each  note  I  hear  the  full  acclaim 

Of  Heavenly  harps,  faint- sounding  far 
above. 


DISSOLUTION 

Speed  thee,  my  soul,  in  a  rapid  flight, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee ; 
Out  with  the  clouds  of  the  gruesome 

night, 
Out  where  the  bodily  heart  takes  fright, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee. 

Speed  thee,  my  soul,  like  a  northern  gale, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee ; 
Out  with  the  winds  in  the  lowly  vale, 
Out  with  the  night- wind's  frightened 
wail, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee. 


Speed  thee,  my  soul,  from  this  bond  of 

clay, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee. 
Blow  o  'er  the  sands  where  the  silver 

spray 

Of  eternal  Deep  washes  earth  away, 
Speed  thee,  speed  thee. 

Speed  thee,  my  soul,  for  the  light  will 

come, 

Speed  thee,  speed  thee ; 
Dark  is  the  way  but  the  glittering  dome 
Will  shine  from  afar,  and  lead  thee 

home; 
Speed  thee,  speed  thee. 


C1453 


GOD'S  WORLD 

There  is  a  flower  that  blows 

On  the  desert  wild, 
Where  no  man  ever  goes : 

Oh,  vain  that  flower  smiled ! 
No  man— yet  God  can  see 
How  fair  a  flower  may  be. 

There  is  a  bird  that  sings 
In  the  woodland  drear  ; 

But  trees  are  lifeless  things- 
No  man  the  song  will  hear. 

No  man— but  God  can  tell 

If  birds  are  singing  well. 


cue: 


THE  DIET 

Handful  of  earth,  I  do  not  scorn 

For  that  thou  art  not  scented  flower. 
My  Brother  Earth,  when  man  was  born, 

'T  was  not  the  lily  from  His  bower 
Nor  e'en  the  star-dust's  hammered  gold 
That  went  into  His  fairest  mould. 
0  Brother  Slime,  what  artisan 
Could  mould  us  to  the  form  of  man ! 


DC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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